VIKTOR
The bathroom was all marble and gold, the kind of excessive shit rich people loved to flaunt. Lena was on her knees, dress hiked up, working me like her life depended on it.
It didn't.
I stared down at her, one hand braced against the sink, the other loose at my side. She was trying, really trying, moaning around my cock, touching herself, putting on a whole performance. Her mascara was smudged, lipstick ruined, eyes watering as she took me deeper.
I felt nothing.
My earpiece crackled softly in my ear, white noise and distant chatter from my men stationed around the estate. I was half-listening, half-watching Lena's desperate attempt to make me react. She hollowed her cheeks, gripped my thigh, made these breathy little sounds that probably worked on other men.
Not me.
I exhaled through my nose, bored, already planning my next move. Kairen was still in that private room with Andrei and the others. The moment he left, I needed to be there. Not here. Not wasting time with...
The signal came through. Quiet. Clipped.
"Target has left the inner room."
Fuck sake.
I looked down at Lena, tangled my fingers in her hair, and decided I was done playing along. I tightened my grip and shoved myself deep, no warning, no mercy, fucking her throat in sharp, brutal thrusts until she gagged and clawed at my hips.
When I finished, I pulled out, tucked myself back in, and reached for a towel. "We're done."
Lena coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her expression shifting from shock to something darker. "Wait—"
"No."
I moved toward the door, but she was faster. She stepped in front of me, blocking my path, her smile sharp and knowing.
"You should stay, Viktor," she said, voice low and smooth. "Forget about that little brat."
I stared at her. "Move."
She didn't. Instead, she laughed, soft, amused, like she knew something I didn't. "When did the Mad Dog become so soft?"
Everything stopped.
Not my breathing. Not my pulse. But something inside me went still. Cold. Sharp.
No one had called me that in years. Not since the black ops days. Not since I was someone else entirely.
I stepped closer, slow, deliberate, until I was inches from her face. My voice dropped low, lethal. "Who are you?"
Her smile widened, but I saw the flicker of fear beneath it. "I'm just a fan," she said lightly. "That's why I'm warning you to stay."
I leaned in, my breath brushing her ear. "If you know that name," I murmured, "then you know what I'm capable of. So I'm going to ask you one more time. Move."
The threat didn't need to be spoken. She knew. One wrong move, and I'd paint the ceramic tiles with her skull.
She stepped aside, finally, but not without a scoff. "I tried to warn you."
Then I heard it.
A gunshot.
Distant. Muffled. But unmistakable.
Lena's smile returned, dark and satisfied. "They're here."
I didn't waste another second. I shoved past her and bolted out of the bathroom.
The hallway erupted into chaos.
Masked men in tactical gear swarmed the mansion, yelling orders, firing shots into the ceiling. Guests screamed, scrambling for cover, some dropping to the floor, others running blind.
"Get down! On the ground! Now! Find Andrei!"
I scanned the scene in seconds, fifteen, maybe twenty hostiles. Military-grade weapons. Coordinated assault. This wasn't random. This was planned.
One of the masked men spotted me, rifle swinging toward my chest. "You! Down! Now!"
I dropped to one knee, hands raised, playing compliant. Let him think I was just another terrified guest.
He took two steps closer.
That's all I needed.
I moved fast, grabbed his rifle, twisted it out of his grip, slammed the stock into his jaw. He went down hard. I didn't wait. I pulled the trigger, dropped two more before they even registered what happened.
Then I was moving.
Full speed. Full focus.
I tore through the mansion like a blade cutting through flesh. Hand-to-hand when I had to. Stolen weapons when I didn't. Every movement was instinct, muscle memory carved into me from years of killing.
But this time, it wasn't orders driving me.
It was him.
Kairen.
I had to find him.
I rounded a corner and nearly collided with a wall of muscle in full tactical gear.
We locked eyes.
Kael Roman.
Bigger than me. Broader. Just as deadly. Maybe more.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he laughed, short, sharp, disbelieving. "Viktor? The fuck are you doing here?"
"Babysitting," I bit out.
That made him laugh harder. "You? Babysitting? That's rich."
I didn't have time for this. "Move."
He stepped aside, still grinning behind his mask. "Get your baby out of here. Fast. This place is rigged to blow in thirty."
I didn't thank him. I just ran.
I tore through room after room, study, library, parlor, empty, empty, fucking empty.
My earpiece was static. No response. Dead signal or dead men.
My chest felt tight. Not fear. Not yet. But something close.
Then I heard it.
"Get the fuck away from me!"
Kairen's voice. Sharp. Defiant. Alive.
I kicked the door open.
The study was dim, lit by a single lamp. Kairen stood in the center, hands raised, a masked man pressing a gun to the back of his head.
"Your death," the man said, voice smug, "would be worth a fortune."
I stepped inside, calm, controlled. "I know, right? The son of Dimitri Kurov-Shin. His life's worth generational wealth."
The man's head snapped toward me, gun still pressed to Kairen's skull. He grinned. "One more step, and I paint the walls with his brain.
I stopped. Calculated. His finger was on the trigger, too much pressure. He was nervous. Good.
Kairen's eyes met mine, wide, furious, terrified. A perfect storm trapped behind gold irises.
I tilted my head, voice almost playful. "Which is why you should let him go. I call dibs on him first."
The man barked out a laugh. "You want him? Join the fucking line."
"There is no line," I said flatly. "Just me. And you, in about thirty seconds if you don't move that gun."
Kairen's jaw clenched. "Viktor, I swear to God—"
"Relax, printsessa," I murmured, eyes still locked on the gunman. "I've got this."
"Don't fucking printsessa me, you psychotic—" Kairen's voice cracked with rage. "You're standing there making jokes while there's a gun to my head!"
I shrugged. "You wanted me gone earlier. Thought you'd appreciate the break."
His face flushed red, fury bleeding through the fear. "I will kill you myself if we get out of this."
"Get in line," I said dryly.
The masked man laughed again, enjoying the show. "You two fuckers are insane. No wonder Dimitri keeps you on a leash, boy. You'd probably get yourself killed within a week without this bastard."
Kairen's shoulders tensed. "Fuck you."
"Cute," the man sneered. "Real cute. But it doesn't change the fact that you're worth more dead than alive to some people. And I'm one of them."
I took half a step forward. "Then pull the trigger."
Silence.
The man's grip tightened on the gun. Kairen's breathing hitched.
I kept my voice low, steady. "Go ahead. Do it. But the second you do, I'll make sure your death takes hours. I'll peel your skin off in strips. I'll make you beg for mercy you'll never get. And when you finally die, no one will even remember your name."
The man hesitated. Just a flicker. But it was enough.
Kairen caught it too. His eyes darted between us, reading the shift.
"You talk a lot of shit for a guy who's outnumbered," the masked man spat, but his voice wavered.
I smiled. Cold. Empty. "Outnumbered?
You're the only one in this room about to die."
"Viktor," Kairen hissed through clenched teeth, "stop fucking around—"
"Relax," I said again, softer this time. "I told you. I've got this."
"You don't have shit," Kairen snapped, voice shaking now... anger, fear, something rawer beneath it. "You're just standing there like a fucking statue while this asshole decides whether or not to blow my brains out!"
I met his gaze. Held it. "Trust me."
His eyes widened. Not with relief. With disbelief. With something that looked like betrayal.
"Trust you?" he whispered, voice breaking. "You're asking me to trust you?"
The masked man shifted, finger twitching on the trigger. "Enough. Both of you, shut the fuck up, or I end this right now—"
"Do it then," I interrupted, voice sharp as a blade. "Stop talking and do it. Or are you too much of a coward?"
The man's hand trembled. Kairen flinched.
And then, Kairen moved.
Fast. Vicious. His elbow slammed into the man's ribs with everything he had. The masked man grunted, stumbling back, and Kairen twisted, clawing at the gun.
They struggled, grappling, thrashing, limbs tangled in chaos.
I lunged forward.
Bang.
The gunshot exploded through the room, deafening, final.
Everything stopped.
Smoke curled from the barrel.
Someone hit the floor.